


Arrival

by Raointean



Series: Fellowship of the Pranksters [1]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Autistic!Elrond, Caranthir is an emo, Crablor, Curufin is a great dad, Elrond's rocks, Fellowship of the Pranksters, Fluff, Gen, Good Dad!Fëanor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Suicide attempt, Maedhros has PTSD, Maglor is a Sad Beach Cryptid, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Silmarills, References to Depression, The Kidnap Fam has a lot of issues, Time Travel, Trauma For Everyone!, kidnap fam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:48:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28034175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raointean/pseuds/Raointean
Summary: We all know how the silmarills screwed up the entire world and cause pain to hundreds of thousands of people, but none more than the kidnap fam. Maedhros, Maglor, Elrond, and Elros are pulled from different points in time and dropped into pre-silmarill Tirion. Can they stop Fëanor before it's too late? How will the twins cope with living in an entirely different time and place?
Relationships: Elrond Peredhel & Elros Tar-Minyatur, Elrond Peredhel & Maedhros | Maitimo, Elrond Peredhel & Maglor | Makalaurë, Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maedhros | Maitimo, Elros Tar-Minyatur & Maglor | Makalaurë, Fëanor | Curufinwë/Nerdanel, Maedhros | Maitimo & Maglor | Makalaurë
Series: Fellowship of the Pranksters [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053470
Comments: 12
Kudos: 99





	1. Poof

**Author's Note:**

> I've always imagined that Sindarin would have something of a southern drawl to it since those speakers live so far away from the more "civilized" folk. With that in mind, I have the characters using southern slang when speaking Sindarin.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Tumblr is Raointean (same as here). Feel free to check it out, ask questions, talk to me. It's always a pleasure to hear from y'all.
> 
> I've always imagined that Sindarin would have something of a southern drawl to it since those speakers live so far away from the more "civilized" folk. With that in mind, I have the characters using southern slang when speaking Sindarin.

F.A. 549

Elros was playing with Elrond in the courtyard of Himring. He had had an odd dream the night before and, although he couldn't remember it, it had set him on edge all day. He dodged another pinecone missile from Elrond and tried to get his head back in the game. He grabbed an acorn from the ground, drew his arm back, and _poof._ The acorn fell to the ground, unthrown, and all alone. The twins were gone.

F.A. 587

Maedhros was preparing the last of his men to raid the camp of Eonwë. How he wished he had never sworn that thrice accursed oath. All he wanted was to raise his little boys and watch them grow into adulthood, but he knew that would never be possible while the Oath endured. He rode to the front to command his men when he vanished straight off his horse.

S.A. 1372

Maglor was wandering by the seashore with his pet crab, singing unending laments with his hoarsened voice. As he made his way through the rocks, he felt a strange aura surround him. A moment later he was gone. Little Crablor scuttled about, trying to find the nice person that fed him, but there was nothing to find.

YotT 1379

It was a peaceful day in the Tirion forests; the birds were chattering, the squirrels were playing, there was not an elf in sight. _Poof._ Correction, there were now four elves in sight. They landed in a tangle of limbs; Maedhros on bottom, the twins on top, and Maglor squished in between. As soon as they got themselves untangled, the twins started talking all at once.

"Atto, where are we!?"

"Ada, why's your hair so long and crunchy?"

"We were just in the courtyard and then we were here? I ain't ever seen a place like this."

"Was that magic? Ada, Atto, I did magic!"

Maedhros and Maglor shared a glance and Maedhros walked the perimeter of their little clearing to make sure they would be safe for at least the next few minutes while Maglor tried to pacify the overexcited children. "I don't know exacly where we are and I don't think your magic could've brought us here, Elrond. To be fair though, I definitely couldn't've done it either. Now, I need you two to sit real still right here while I go talk to your Atto. We'll see if we can't figure something out, alright?"

The twins nodded, a little more aprehensive than before in the face of their father's uncertainty. Maglor walked to where Maedhros was standing, keeping an eye on things inside the clearing and out. They whispered in Quenya to avoid little ears listening in. "Where do you think we have landed, brother?"

Maedhros took a good look around before answering. "I know not why, but this place is familiar, as if from a dream." They paused, thinking, until Maedhros had an epiphany. "Or a memory!" he cried.

Maglor looked around the clearing, reconsidering every tree, stick, and blade of grass. "You could not believe... certainly not... the Valar would never allow it... it cannot be... could it?"

"Yes brother, I think it could be. If I remember the land rightly, we are not more than a league from the house." Maedhros almost looked excited at the prospect of seeing home again.

"Do you think anyone would be there? It has been millennia since we lived on this side of the Sundering Seas, longer since we have looked upon the manor." Maedhros gave him a _look._

"There has obviously been some sort of distortion in time. I have never seen you look as you do now and, believe me brother, that salt-encrusted mane you call hair would take at least two hundred years to achieve. Furthermore, I believe the children were somewhat older than they are now, last I saw them. Is it then so ludicrous that our family still lives together? Who knows, we may yet meet our younger selves! Who can say?" Maglor pondered his words for a while and nodded.

"I suppose you are right. What now shall we do? Do we try to find our family or do we avoid them?"

Maedhros concidered for a moment. He looked at the twins, still sitting somewhat quietly and trying their best to pretend that they weren't trying to listen, and came to a decision. "We head for the house. I know not what we will find there, but there should, at least, be shelter for the night."

Maglor agreed and called to the twins. "Elros, Elrond, come on. We think we know where we are and where we can find shelter tonight."

They scrambled to their feet and ran after their fathers. Elros caught up first. "Where are we?"

Maedhros answered him. "We think we're in Valinor. We're heading for me and Maglor's childhood home. I don't know what'll be there exactly but we'll have a roof over our heads at the very least."

As they walked, Elrond and Elros continued to pepper the both of them with questions. Maedhros sighed. This was going to be a looooong walk. 


	2. In which everyone is screaming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarity, the Ambarussar are the human equivalent of 7 year olds and the Peredhil would be about seven... physically. Also, for the sake of simplicity, and my own sanity, let's all just pretend that tree years and sun years are the same length.

Nerdanel stared out the window during a short break from her sculpting. She was lost in thoughts and memories of her two eldest sons. Maedhros, who had always been steady and dependable. He had helped her take care of the younger children with ease and joy. He had been her little trooper. And Maglor, while not as adept at caring for the younger children, was fantastic at entertaining them and was always eager to show off his new music. He would hide in his room for days and then come out with a beautiful symphony. She missed both of her sons deeply and ached with their loss.

They had disappeared nearly twenty years before. They had found no bodies and no trail with which to track them; it was as if they had disappeared off the face of the world. She and Fëanor had searched for months before finally giving up. They grieved for several years, during which their relationship had been deeply strained. At first, Nerdanel had only stayed for the children. Eventually however, after a particularly nasty fight, they decided that they had to grieve together instead of blaming each other or else someone would have to leave.

"AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH" Her thoughts were interrupted by two shrill screams from the courtyard. She jumped up and flew from the room, pausing only to grab her dagger. As it turned out, she had no need of it.

When she arrived at the courtyard she noticed 3 things in order. 1. The ambarussar were safe. 2. Celegorm had his small hunting sword pointed at an intruder. 3. There was an intruder.

The intruder was unusually tall, but seemed even taller because of the plumed helmet on his head. His red hair was lopped short. He was wearing full armor and had a sword much longer than Celegorm's, but he had not drawn it. He also had horrible scars spider-webbing across his face, making him almost unrecognizable. Almost.

Nerdanel gasped as she saw her son. "Maitimo?" The twins, now cowering behind her, looked at each other in confusion. They had very little memory of their eldest brothers and knew them mostly through the stories they were told about them.

Celegorm stared at her in shock, turned back to the intruder, and took a closer look at him. Sure enough, beneath the armor and the plethora of scars, he could see his own brother staring back at him with an unimpressed expression. "Maitimo is it really you?" he asked. He didn't know what he feared more: a no, or a yes.

"Yes, it is I. Your threats need practice, brother. You could perhaps frighten a rabbit with that knife, but nothing more." He walked to the porch where his mother and brothers were, leaving Celegorm standing in shock. 

"Hello Mother, I apologize if my appearance alarms you, but we seem to be lost." He seemed almost shy now, trying to make himself look less threatening. Nerdanel could hold herself back no longer. She leapt towards him and crushed him in the strongest hug of either of their lives. He stiffened, eyes wide, before hesitantly bending down and hugging her back.

As soon as Nerdanel let go and wiped her tears away, she realized something. "Did you say 'we'? Is Makalaurë with you?!" She desperately pleaded in her soul that he was. 

"Yes mother, he is with me. I was only checking to make sure this place was yet safe. He is not more than a minute's walk from here if you would like me to fetch him?" Nerdanel thought for a moment. There was no way she was letting Maedhros out of her sight but she needed to see Maglor as well.

"I will come with you. Celegorm, go fetch your father and your brothers. Bring them here." She then looked at Maedhros and said, “Lead the way.”

Maedhros said nothing, but walked off into the forest. They walked for almost exactly a minute, as he had said, and didn't talk at all.

Soon they arrived at a small clearing and Maglor stepped out from behind a tree. He and Nerdanel stared at each other, both surprised. 

He was absolutely filthy. His hair was long, matted, and crusty even. He was skinny and his clothes were more patch than actual fabric. Nerdanel was already making a mental list of what needed to be done when two elflings ran out from behind another tree.

Nerdanel looked at them in alarm. What in Aman were her sons doing with two children? She looked to Maedhros for answers. “Who are the children?”

Maedhros looked at Maglor to try and see what he should say. When no answers were forthcoming, he gave her a very vague version of the truth. “The situation is somewhat complicated. However, they are under our protection.”

Nerdanel raised an eyebrow, knowing full well that there was more but let it slide for the moment in favor of giving Maglor a giant hug. “I missed you boys so much, words cannot express my grief at your loss and my joy at your return.”

Maglor was now very confused about  _ when _ they were. They had walked for over an hour and, though it was still light outside, he had not seen any sign of the sun. They had not left Aman until after the trees had been destroyed and yet his mother was speaking as if they had been gone for years. He needed to know what happened.

"I have missed you as well Ammë. May I ask, what is the year? I am afraid I have lost track of the date." Nerdanel looked at him with pity.

"Yes, I suppose you have been gone for quite some time… The year is 1379, you've been missing for twenty years. Where on Eru's great planet have you been!? Your father and I have been worried sick!" Shocked by their mother's change in mood, neither Maglor nor Maedhros could come up with a suitable reply. When neither of her sons said anything, she threw up her hands and said “Oh what does it matter. We must return. Your father, brothers, and nephew will be waiting for you.”

Maedhros nodded and began walking back to the house while Maglor attempted to corral the twins. They had been trying to see who could climb up one of the nearby trees the fastest and were not overly eager to give up just yet. “But Ada, we’re playing!” Elrond complained.

“Y’all’ve been playing this whole time. We’re going to the house and you two are gonna take a nice, long bath with lots of soap.” The twins both pulled identical faces of disgust. Maedhros decided to take pity on him and help.

“If you two don’t hurry up, we might be caught out here after dark and run into an orc party.” That got their attention. They scurried after the adults and stayed very close to them throughout the entirety of the short walk. "You'd think you'd know better than to use a bath as a bribe." he said aside to Maglor. He gave a sheepish smile in responce.

As they walked, Nerdanel observed what she could of the twins. They were definitely young, probably no more than 25 years of age, but they acted differently. One of them, the one that was sticking close to Maedhros, acted much older than he looked. The other one, by Maglor’s side, acted almost half as old as he looked.

Something else that struck her as exceedingly odd was the fact that they appeared to be foreign, as they seemed to neither speak, nor understand Quenya. It was true that there were other languages and dialects within Aman, but everyone spoke basic Quenya. They spoke a language that seemed rougher, but no less beautiful. That her sons spoke it as well was not odd in and of itself, it was the fact that they spoke it more fluently than they did their own native language. They even had an accent for Manwë's sake!

The young twins also looked somewhat un-elven. They were thicker and sturdier than most elven children she had seen, and she had seen many. There was also something of an aura around them. She could tell that they would be very powerful when they were older. 

At last, they reached the house. Celegorm had successfully gathered everyone to the courtyard where they were all waiting “patiently”. Amrod and Amras were trying to steal Celebrimbor from Curufin’s arms, Celegorm and Fëanor were “discussing something” (also known as bickering like three year olds), and Caranthir was sitting on the porch pretending the rest of his family didn’t exist. 

Everything ceased when the group came into view. The twins stared at the large family before them. Maglor and Maedhros had told them stories about their family of course, but they had never expected to meet any of them, what with them being dead and all. 

Suddenly everyone started talking all at once. “Where  _ were _ you?!”

“Who are the children?”

“Makalaurë, you need a bath... or eight.”

“I’m so glad to be home.”

“What are they saying, Ada?

“What has happened to your face, Maitimo?”

“How have you come back to us?”

“WAAAAAAAAAAHHH!”

Celebrimbor, feeling ignored and overwhelmed by all the shouting, had started crying. Curufin tried desperately to calm him but he was inconsolable. “I apologize, it is nearly his bed time and he seems to be reminding me of that.”

Nerdanel looked at the sky and agreed. “Yes, it is getting dark. You go and put him to bed and meet in the drawing room. Caranthir, I need you to find a guest room for the twins. Celegorm, you must go look and see if the Ambarussa have anything that would fit the little ones. Perhaps last year’s clothes? Amrod, Amras, go and help him. Fëanor, love, go draw Maitimo a bath and find him a spare change of clothes. I shall tackle Makalaurë’s hair. After all of that, we are going to meet in the drawing room and you two shall explain yourselves.” This last comment was directed at Maedhros and Maglor. They somehow got the feeling that their mother was still somewhat bitter at their disappearance.

“Atto? What’re they talking about?” Elros was more than a little confused. He was surrounded by strange people, who were all shouting in a strange language he didn’t understand. It seemed like the red headed lady was in charge and giving directions, but he couldn’t understand them.

“Elros, Elrond, c’mere. We’re gonna be staying here awhile, perhaps a long while. These people are my family, which makes them your family too, okay? We're safe here. The blond nér is your Uncle Celegorm, though he goes by Turkafinwë right now, and he’s gonna go take you to find some decent clothes and then we’ll find y’all something to eat. After that, you’re going to bed. Your Ada and I will explain more in depth in the morning.” With that, he sent them off to Celegorm and followed his father into the house. 

Maglor looked at his mother apprehensively. Getting his hair cut, brushed, washed, or a combination of the three was not going to be fun. He let out a sigh and trudged inside to face his doom.


	3. Terrible bedtime stories and tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
> Ammë: Mom (Quenya)  
> Atto: Dad (Quenya)  
> Ada: Dad (Sindarin)  
> Hannato: Father-brother, paternal uncle (Quenya)  
> Yáratto: Old father, Grandfather (Quenya)

Two hours later, the entire family, barring those under the age of forty, were gathered in the drawing room. It had been a busy two hours full of feeding children, finding a room for them to stay in, and lots and lots of miming in an attempt to overcome the language barrier. 

Maglor’s hair had taken the longest. It was now shoulder length, semi brushed, and mostly clean. Nerdanel had almost given up and had considered just chopping it off after finding a fish skeleton, three dead starfish, a collection of seashells and pebbles, and a bucket’s worth of sand; but somehow, she persisted. 

Finally, once everyone was gathered, Fëanor took charge. “I am sure that we are all wondering the same things. Where have you been? What has happened that could change you both so in twenty years? Also, where did the children come from? They are obviously not yours.”

Maglor and Maedhros had discussed what they should say when everyone else had been otherwise occupied. They had decided to tell the truth, perhaps excluding the kinslayings and the gory details, and Maedhros was to speak first. Maglor would take over for anything he did not know or was absent for. 

“We have determined that time distortion has brought us here. We were told that the year is 1379 and, given that there was no clarification of the Age and that all of you are still alive, we must conclude that it is still the Years of the Trees. I am currently 3,556 years old and Maglor, Makalaurë, apologies, is…?”

“I am afraid I have lost track. I know, however, that my age well exceeds 4,000 years.” Everyone else in the room stared in shock. Curufin broke the silence.

“You mean to say that you have come here from several  _ thousand  _ **_years_ ** in the future?”

“Yes,” Maglor answered. “And we believe that we have been sent back here to prevent things that should never have been.”

Nerdanel was intrigued, but skeptical. “What kind of things?”

Maedhros sighed and muttered under his breath in Sindarin, “Well if y’all’d stop interrupting and let me get on with the story…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing Ammë. Let us just continue. I believe we were brought back here to stop the invention of the Silmarils. The Silmarils were three jeweled vessels that housed a small portion of the light of the two trees. Atto created them and they caused much heartache. They caused Atto to become selfish, greedy, prideful, and paranoid. He accused Hannato… what was his Quenyan name again?”

Maglor looked up, trying to remember. “It ended with ‘Finwë’, I know that much. I think it started with an N?”

Maedhros hummed in agreement, still thinking. Caranthir spoke up, almost boredly, “Do you perhaps mean Hannato Ñolofinwë?”

“Yes, him. Atto believed that he was trying to usurp the Noldorin throne just to spite him so he threatened him with a sword. The Valar took exception to that and banished him from Tirion.” Fëanor was looking more and more horrified as they continued with the story and Maglor had to laugh internally. Things hadn’t even gotten bad yet! “All seven of us followed him of course, as did Yáratto Finwë. I think he believed it to be his fault, at least partially. Ammë stayed behind. 

Melkor had left the sight of the Valar some time before and, during a festival that Atto had to attend in order to end his banishment, he came out of nowhere and destroyed the two trees. He then went to Formenos, that was the name of the place we stayed whilst Atto was banished, and stole the Silmarils. Yáratto Finwë tried to stop him I believe, and was murdered."

Fëanor now looked quite faint and more than a little horrified. "I think I may need some tea, Nerdanel."

"I think we may all need some by the time this story is over." She rose from her seat next to her husband to go and make some. 

"Brother, please tell me this gets no worse. I am unsure if Atto's nerves can handle that much stress." Curufin looked at him pleadingly, but Maedhros only chuckled bitterly.

“Alas, I wish I could reassure you, but the depth of the evil those jewels caused is deeper than Mandos’ own halls. The story must be told lest we repeat history.” Nerdanel returned with tea enough for a whole army and resumed her seat. Maedhros continued.

“When Atto discovered the theft he was furious of course, but when he heard of Yáratto’s death he was livid. He gathered the Noldor, who were also furious about the death of their king, to pursue Melkor across the ends of the earth. We marched to Alqualondë and stole the Teleri’s ships. We were then cursed by Mandos to fail in everything and shed tears unnumbered; all too true as it turned out. Hannato Arafinwë was wise and turned back then, but his children continued on. After he turned back, the seven of us swore an oath that Atto led. We swore to Manwë and to Eru himself that we would find the Silmarils and kill anyone who kept them from us. We called the everlasting darkness upon ourselves should we fail. It was a truly unbreakable oath.

We could not fit the entire remaining host of Noldor into the ships so Hannato Ñolofinwë stayed behind with the promise that we would send the ships back after we had reached the far shore. Atto burned the ships. He almost killed one of the Ambarussa in doing so but expressed no remorse when told.” The tea was being drained very quickly by an ever more horrified Fëanor and an increasingly nervous Nerdanel. Even Caranthir looked somewhat disturbed.

“We then met Melkor’s forces in battle. It was long and bloody but we eventually drove them back. Unfortunately, Atto was mortally wounded and died. We could not bury his body because he spontaneously combusted upon his death for the sake of dramatics. After the battle, I came up with the oh so brilliant idea of feigning to treat with a vala. He came with a larger guard than I and took me prisoner. Let us just say that that is where most of my scars originated. Thirty years later, Findekáno cut off my hand to rescue me from a cliff face. I know not what happened in that interval.” By this time, nearly everyone in the room looked shaken, horrified, ill, angry, or a combination of the four. Maedhros appeared calm on the surface but one who knew him well could see the slight tremor in his hand that revealed his inner storm of pent up emotions.

Maglor took a deep breath and picked up the story. “While he was gone, I took up rule of the Noldor as Regent, not as well as Maedhros did of course, but I managed to keep factions from going to war. We attempted to lay siege to the fortress several times to rescue him but it never worked. Towards the end of the thirty years, Hannato Ñolofinwë and his host appeared. As it turns out, when they discovered Atto’s treachery in burning the ships, the entire host became so angry and stubborn as to become nearly unstoppable. They decided to come and take their revenge on Atto by any means possible and walked across the Helcaraxë”

Fëanor chuckled at that. “That definitely sounds like something he would do. So brave, and yet,  _ so rash! _ ”

Maglor smiled sadly “Yes, it was brave. There have been many songs written about it throughout the years, but it was indeed very foolish. By the time they arrived, many of their number had died. The first thing they asked about was where you were; they were more than a little miffed when Turcafinwë told them that you had already died. I think Galadriel was the most… annoyed. She would not speak to anyone for weeks and ‘composed’ several little ditties about how much she hated Atto.” 

Nerdanel almost giggled. “This Galadriel, I assume that she is one of your cousins? Is it Artanis or Írissë?”

“It was Artanis I believe. She was always so quick to wrath, but that is beside the point. Findekáno heard of Maedh- Maitimo’s imprisonment and decided to go rescue him. We laughed of course, we thought the deed impossible and had made our peace with that, but he did not believe us nor did he listen to his father’s warning. We thought him lost as well but, a week later, he was back and had brought Maedhros with him. Maedhros gave the kingship to Hannato Ñolofinwë as thanks.”

Maedhros picked up the story from there. “We finally succeeded in laying siege to Melkor’s fortress and enjoyed a watchful peace for a while. I think King Elu Thingol of the Sindar also banned Quenya at some point during that time, so all of us needed new, Sindarin names. Atto became Fëanor, I became Maedhros (and I honestly prefer that name), Makalaurë became Maglor, Turcafinwë became Celegorm, Carnistir became Caranthir, Curufinwë became Curufin, Pityafinwë became Amrod, and Ambarto became Amras.”

Celegorm decided that this was the perfect time to speak up. “No offence, brother mine, but Maglor sounds like a rather dumb name.”

Maglor rolled his eyes at his brother’s chronic insensitivity (it was no wonder he hadn’t been able to find someone who would marry him yet). “It is quite a fine name actually; especially compared to Hannato Arafinwë’s name.” At the confused looks he got from most everyone in the room, he elaborated. “His name translates to Finarfin.”

There were several poorly concealed snorts and giggles at the exceedingly dumb sounding name. Maedhros smiled fondly before ruining the mood by continuing the story.


	4. The bad part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is where the implied/referenced suicide tag comes in. It's just the mention of Maedhros' canon death and mentions of times he might have attempted it before. Nothing too in depth though.
> 
> Next chapter we get back to the children. YAAAAAAAAAAAAY! They are a right pleasure to write.

“Eventually Melkor broke free of our siege and there was a huge battle. Many good elves died that day. Afterwards, Hannato Ñolofinwë was so distraught that he marched to the gates of the Enemy’s fortress and did something both very brave and very rash. He challenged Melkor to single combat.” Fëanor went nearly bug-eyed in shock.

Maedhros saw this and continued. “Yes, you heard me correctly. Single combat. Against a vala. He lost of course, but it was glorious. His death was remembered in song for  _ centuries _ .

Sometime later, we got word that King Thingol’s daughter had stolen one of the Silmarils from Melkor and I had hope that his fortress was not entirely unassailable. I gathered every elf who would join me and we marched on that awful place. It was a long and terrible battle with far too many deaths. Findekáno was one of them.” Maedhros’ voice was shaking at this point so Maglor decided to take over.

“When we asked King Thingol’s grandson, King Dior, to return the Silmaril to us, he refused. The Oath we had taken all those years ago forced us to try and take it by force if they would not relinquish it. There was something of a battle during which Turcafinwë, Carnistir, Curufinwë, and King Dior were slain.” 

Nerdanel burst into tears upon hearing of her sons’ deaths. She had been holding them back since she heard of Fëanor’s death but this was just too much. She gathered all of her sons that were in the room and hugged them close. Maedhros and Maglor were both a little overwhelmed by so much physical contact after so long without it. Celegorm and Curufin leaned into the hug, disturbed after hearing about their own deaths. Caranthir acted mildly annoyed by it but everyone could tell that even he was shaken.

When she finally released them and they went back to their own seats, she turned to her husband with a stubborn look. “If you even so much as  _ think  _ of making those wretched, detestable, loathsome jewels, I shall take all of your crafting materials and give them to your brothers  _ and  _ I shall make you sleep on the settee until the Ambarussar have grandchildren!”

“No, believe me love, those ghastly abominations will never come into existence by my hand. I shall remain quite content with my family.” Fëanor looked stricken but it was anyone’s guess as to why. Most likely it was his sons’ deaths but the thought of not sleeping with his wife for that long was also a strong contender.

Maedhros ignored them and picked up where Maglor had left off. “After the battle, some of Celegorm’s servants found Dior’s twin sons and abandoned them in the forest. I looked for them for days but I could not find them. They were never seen nor heard from again. We searched the place for the Silmaril but we could not find it so we left empty handed.

Years later, we heard that Dior’s daughter Elwing had escaped with it, so we sent her several letters asking her to return it to us. She refused. We resisted the Oath as long as we could but in the end, it would not be ignored. Maglor, the Ambarussar, and I marched on the town where she was staying to take it from her. We eventually cornered her on the edge of a cliff and demanded it from her. She decided that she would rather die than give the thing up. She jumped off of the cliff to what she thought would be her death but she turned into a bird midway through the fall and flew off with the Silmaril. I have heard that it was Ulmo who turned her into the bird but I know not how true that is.

We walked back through the town and found the bodies of the Ambarussar. They had died in the skirmish. But that is not all we found. Amidst the wreckage, we found two young elflings. They were Elros and Elrond, Elwing’s sons. I could not leave them to the same fate as their uncles so Maglor and I took them in, first as prisoners, but over time we began to think of them as our own sons. They must have begun to think of us as their fathers because they started calling me ‘Atto’ and Maglor ‘Ada’, the Sindarin word for father. 

Several years later, I guess the Valar finally deigned to intervene. They brought a host and defeated Melkor once and for all. Once he was defeated, they took the two remaining Silmarils from him but did not return them to us. Instead, they were taken to one of the Maiar’s camps. We knew we had to get them immediately, the Oath would not let us do otherwise. We left the twins, who were then near full grown, with Gil-Galad, then the High King of the Noldor, and were about to march on the camp. That is the last I remember before coming here.” 

Maglor, seeing that there were no additional comments, took over. “The raid on the camp was successful. We retrieved the Silmarils but at terrible cost. When the Silmarils had first been created, Atto showed them to Manwë. He loved them and hallowed them so that if anyone with an impure fëa attempted to touch them, the person would be burned. When we took the gems in our hands, they burned so. In our pursuit of the Silmarils, our fëa had become so broken and twisted by our own deeds that they no longer recognised us. We had lost our claim to them.

Maitimo was so distraught by the cruelty of such an ironic end to an impossibly miserable age, that he threw himself and one of the Silmarils into a chasm of fire. Because of that, he gained a new title: Maedhros the Self-Slain. I myself cast the other jewel into the sea and took my penance wandering the shore mourning and regretting my life. I did not keep track of much of the happenings outside of that.”

There was several minutes of silence as everyone reflected on what they had heard. Maedhros was somewhat stunned at first, hearing of his drastic last action, but as he thought about it, it made more and more sense. If the purpose that he had devoted his life to for several centuries had turned out to be all for naught, he would have been devastated. And it wasn’t like he hadn’t considered ending it all before, but he had always been called back from the edge by someone that cared about him. At first it had been Hannato Fingolfin after his rescue from Angband, then he and Fingon had supported each other after the Dagor Bragollach. A few days after the  Nírnaeth Arnoediad  was when he had come the closest to the edge but Maglor had managed to pull him back, both figuratively and literally. After that, the twins had depended on him and he couldn’t possibly have let them down. 

Nerdanel was filled with fear and anger and feelings she couldn’t even name. Without the meddling of whoever had bent time (she had a feeling it was one of the Valar) her husband and all but one of her sons would die horrible deaths. She couldn’t even imagine them going off to fight in a war, especially not the young Ambarussar! She resolved to make her two oldest sons feel as safe as possible and attempt to heal the hurts that she had apparently been unable to stop.

Fëanor felt ill and horrified. He couldn’t believe that something he would have made could have caused so much pain. He determined to henceforth put his family above any project he was considering. He had never thought about how everything he loved could be taken away so quickly.

Celegorm was still reeling. Apparently, in this alternate future, he had been a formidable warrior and had  _ died  _ because of it. All of a sudden, being a warrior didn’t sound so alluring.

Caranthir was horrified. He pretended he didn’t have feelings and pretended to be annoyed by his family but in truth, he was all too empathetic and loved his family deeply. He couldn’t believe how much his brothers had gone through. It was nearly unfathomable that one person could go through that much and still be okayish. It struck him that maybe they weren’t okay at all, just good at hiding it. He resolved to help them in any way he could the best way he knew how, from the shadows.

Curufin couldn’t help but think of the elflings his brothers had brought with them. They were his nephews, perhaps not by blood, but his kin nonetheless. To be so young and to have lost so much? He couldn’t comprehend it.

Maglor was the first to speak. “I am very sorry if our story has disturbed you, but it is the truth. I think perhaps we should sleep on this information. It is late and we can speak more of this in the morning if anyone still has questions.” The entire family agreed. It had been a long, overexciting day and they all needed some rest. One by one, they left the room and went to their own beds. Some slept, others did not. They were all shaken and confused. 


	5. In Which a Massive Headache is Born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally, we get to the part you've all been waiting for. Chaos. 
> 
> More notes at the end.

Everyone was quiet and subdued the next morning, having much to think about. Everyone but the children that is. They were rowdier and more rambunctious than ever. The Ambarussar were over the moon about meeting another pair of twins that were nearly the same age as them. The Peredhil twins were also more than a little excited. They had never met another pair of twins, and definitely not any near their own age. Even Celebrimbor could feel the excitement in the air. He was giggling madly and throwing his food harder than normal. Curufin was not amused.

Maglor walked into the dining room feeling like an ill human. As it turned out, his body had figured out that it was sleeping on a real bed for the first time in a millennia and had decided that it wanted to stay there. He ate the food that was put in front of him on auto-pilot as he woke up.

“Ada?” the Peredhil had not forgotten their fathers’ promise to explain things and by now, they were more than a bit curious as to what was going on. Elros especially was not one to beat around the bush. “Where are we? And how are we meeting your family? I thought they were dead.”

‘I am sooooo not awake enough for this,’ Maglor thought, but as Maedhros wasn’t in the room he guessed he would have to explain.

“We traveled to Aman as it was before the Silmarils were created. We don’t know how or why, but we’re here, so your Atto and I decided we’d better make the best of it. You two’ll have to learn Quenya, but I’m sure everyone else here will be picking up some Sindarin here and there.” He kept his explanation relatively short and to the point as he really didn’t have it in him to talk much right then.

Elrond, not fully satisfied with the little information he was given asked, “But how long can we stay  _ here _ ?”

Maglor thought about the question before answering. He really didn’t know. On the one hand, their parents weren’t ones to kick their children out, adults though they may be, but on the other hand, he had just admitted to killing several people and kidnapping children. He didn’t want to overstay their welcome, but currently their little family had nowhere else to go. “I dunno actually. Let me ask.” 

He turned to Nerdanel and asked, “Ammë? Elrond asked a question and I myself am unsure of the answer. How long are we permitted to stay here?” He was met by surprised and confused looks from all around the table so he elaborated. “We wouldn’t want to overstay our welcome…”

Nerdanel gave him a look that said ‘are you for real right now?’ When she saw that he was indeed serious, she took a deep breath and answered him. “You may stay as long as you wish to. You may stay forever. What on Yavana’s green earth would give you the idea that we want you to leave?” She wondered how much had changed to make her sons feel unwelcome in their own home.

“Well… I had thought… since we are adults with our own children… you might want us out?” He said the last part questioningly, as if he wasn’t sure what was expected of him. Nerdanel had to remind herself that he hadn’t been anywhere truly civilized in two-thousand years. Perhaps families were different where they had been. Either way, she needed to  _ prove  _ to him that he was welcome.

“I let Curufinwë stay here, do I not? He is grown and has a child as well.”

“Yes, well, we all know what happened with  _ his  _ wife.” Maglor retorted. He gave his brother an apologetic glance for the cheap shot. Curufin was not amused and gave him an ‘I’ll kill you’ look. Surprisingly enough, he still managed to look somewhat intimidating with his face covered in baby food.

Nerdanel gave Maglor an admonishing look before she continued her argument. “No matter. I would have welcomed them both were she not so… you know.”

He blinked at her slowly, still processing the thought. He nodded. Then he nodded again and said, “Okay.” Then he turned to the Peredhil. “Ammë said we can stay forever if we want.”

The twins’ jaws dropped. They had never  _ ever  _ been somewhere without having to be ready to leave at a moment’s notice. They had only been in Sirion for six years and even then they had stayed too long. It had turned out for the best, but it could have easily gone south.

Breakfast continued and multiple conversations had started up. Maedhros finally joined them. He hadn’t been down earlier because his knee had decided to act up and he was trying to convince it to be somewhat usable. As the minutes passed, the table grew more and more chaotic with more people and more ‘discussions’, which is why no one noticed when the Ambarussar slipped away. Nor did anyone notice when the Peredhil quietly followed them. By the time anyone did notice, it was too late.

* * *

“We must welcome our brothers home. How do you suggest we do it?” Amrod and Amras had snuck away from the breakfast table to plan a prank to welcome their brothers back home.

“We could rearrange their rooms,” Amras offered up.

Amrod thought about it, but quickly shut it down. “No, they have not been here long enough for that to be effective. They may not even notice anything amiss. We could do that bug-in-the-apple trick again.”

“Maybe… ooh! We could stuff their shoes!”

“Your brilliance never ceases to amaze me brother. Let us do Makalaurë’s shoes first.” As the red-headed devils snuck into Maglor’s room, they failed to notice another duo behind them.

Elros and Elrond had stealthily followed the other children away from the rest of the family. They didn’t know for certain, but they were fairly sure that these were the Ambarussar of which they had heard so much about. Supposedly, they were also accomplished pranksters. Time to see what they were up to.

“What’d’ya suppose they’re planning?” Elrond was younger than Elros in mind, but even  _ he _ could tell they were planning something.

“I dunno. Let’s go find out; maybe we can help.” Elrond grinned impishly at the suggestion and they made their presence known.

Upon hearing another person in the room, the Ambarussar whipped around fearing they had been caught. When they saw the Peredhil, they paused. Perhaps they could help? Amrod decided that it couldn’t hurt to ask. “We are pranking your fathers. Would you like to help?” 

The Peredhil were annoyed to remember that they didn’t speak Quenya and that their uncles (and wasn’t that a weird thought) didn’t speak Sindarin. Elros decided to take charge of the speaking department since Elrond was so young and might not understand the concept of a language barrier. “I cain’t understand a word you’re saying right now but I’m guessing you’re pranking our dads and we want in.”

With that he grabbed a shoe from Amras’ hand and a piece of cloth and started stuffing it into the toe of the shoe. Elrond figured out what he was doing and imitated him. 

The Ambarussar looked at eachother, shrugged and went back to work. Who said you needed to speak the same language to cause chaos? Well, they were wrong. And with that one prank, The Fellowship of the Pranksters was born. Coincidentally, several centuries worth of headaches for the Fëanorian family were also born that day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, this story is kinda turning out to be two different stories. You've got the recovery and hurt/comfort plotline, and then you've got the fluffy power-of-friendship type storyline. I love it!  
> Also, any guesses as to what happened with Curufin's wife? Comment with your theories. Or come chat with me on Tumblr. My username is the same as it is here.  
> Keep in mind, this is a series. There will be more.


End file.
